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serious face. “Ask her, Mary. Ask her who the man at the door was.”

Chapter Four

Children complicated matters.

And that was why Lou didn’t want them around.

He hated lying in this bed, waiting while Mary sat beside him with that stoic look stuck on her face. Deliberating. The little girl buried her head in Mary’s embrace, ignoring Lou and his demand.

Josie was in a heap of trouble. He could tell that much. None of her own doing, of course, but her safety was a priority now. He wanted things to return to normal, and he didn’t want to worry about this little girl. Somehow it was up to him to get this mess straightened out.

“I will ask who this man is when the time is right,” Mary said at length. Her arms tightened around the girl.

She already felt protective. He admired that, but she’d get her heart broken. He frowned, knowing he felt the same way, too.

“Josie.”

The girl made a muffled noise and didn’t look at him.

“Josie,” he said again, lowering his voice and injecting some sternness into it.

She shuffled around, hair mussed about her face, eyes bright. Her little lips puckered into a pout. “What?”

“Will you tell us who that man is?”

Mary stroked the girl’s forehead, her skin a rich color against Josie’s blond curls. Josie blinked at him. “I don’t wanna.”

Chagrined, Lou told himself to be patient. This wasn’t a case. Just a little girl who needed to go home, who needed to be safe. Especially before his concern for her turned him crazy. Or worse, drowned him in the sorrow of his losses.

“We want to help you find your mommy,” he said with his most winning smile. It worked regularly on women of all ages and didn’t fail with the girl. Obviously charmed, her dimples flashed.

“My mommy doesn’t feel good. I’m not s’posed to bother her.”

“Sweetie, she probably misses you,” Mary said.

“She sleeps too much.” Josie’s dimples disappeared.

“Do you know your address in Portland? A phone number?”

“You sound grumpy, Mister Lou. I think you need a nap.”

“I agree.” Mary gave him a look that was the equivalent of sticking her tongue out at him. It made him almost want to smile.

She’d changed from the frightened young woman brought to his door years ago. She’d pulled her hair to the side, exposing the lovely bone structure of her face, the deep mystery in her eyes.

He mentally shook himself. What was he thinking?

She was practically a sister.

He glared at the subject of his errant thoughts. “Are you making me something to eat?”

“You just ate pancakes.”

“I’m still hungry.”

“I will, Mister Lou,” piped up Josie. “Be good and I’ll bring you some soup. Right, Miss Mary?”

“How about meat?” he asked hopefully. The gurgle in his stomach wasn’t getting any quieter. A man needed something to stick to his ribs.

“You’ll get what’s best for you.” Mary shot him a quiet smile as she ushered Josie out the door.

“Wait,” he called out.

She paused at the door, but Josie ran off. He heard the pitter-patter of her feet, and then she yelled for James in a voice that could wake a corpse in its grave. Even though seeing her pained him in ways he didn’t want to explore, he couldn’t help the reluctant tilt that grabbed his lips and wouldn’t let go.

“She’s something.”

“Yes, she is.” Mary cleared her throat. “Was there anything else?”

“Just keep talking to her. Soon as I can get up I’ll take her into town. Find her a safe house.”

“She’s my responsibility, Lou. I’m praying about what to do.”

He arched a brow at her and she had the grace to flush.

“I’m sure God wants me to find her family,” she said. “In the meantime, I want to take care of her.”

“God doesn’t need to be brought into this. Do the right thing.”

“I will.” Eyes flashing, she shut the door harder than necessary.

He sighed and relaxed against the pillow, just now realizing how tense his muscles had become. How long did he have to stay in this sickbed? Why, the last time he’d been wounded he’d been down only a few days and then a new case cropped up and he’d headed out.

But a week had passed this time, and he still couldn’t sit up without feeling dizzier than a bootlegger spending too much time in a speakeasy. If he stayed here much longer... He didn’t think he could take much more of Mary’s God talk. Let alone seeing Josie every day.

This wasn’t a good place for the little girl. That man was looking for her, and he’d be back. They needed to find her mother and a different place so no harm would come to her.

And then there was Mary. After being kidnapped, sold by Trevor’s mother, Julia, surely she should see that God didn’t care anything for her or her life. It was a lesson he himself had learned the hard way. He just hoped the whole situation with Josie didn’t deal Mary too harsh a blow. Maybe he’d warn her somehow. Soften the news.

Smothering an oath, he shifted position. Why should he warn her? The idea suddenly struck him as pompous. Who was he anyway?

Just a federal agent who wanted nothing to do with God, women or kids. And now he was stuck with all three.

Never had Mary met a more grumpy man than a bedridden Lou Riley. Gritting her teeth, she carried his breakfast tray up to his room, Josie tagging behind her.

“After this can we go see the horses? And the cows, too? I’ve never touched a cow. Can I touch a cow, Mary? Just one time?”

“We’ll see,” said Mary. We’ll see had become her answer to Josie’s constant questions. Was it safe to let a little girl near the cows? She’d learned to ride horses at a young age, but probably not as young as Josie. The girl had proudly told her and James last night at dinner that she was five years old, almost six. A smile tugged at Mary’s mouth. She looked down at

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